


Nobody Sees What We See

by auroreanrave



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Car Sex, Fluff and Smut, Fuckbuddies, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Scents & Smells, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:10:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 'just sex' thing between Derek and Stiles has been going smoothly for months. Until it doesn't. Kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Sees What We See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxxAthaelaxxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxAthaelaxxx/gifts).



> Written from a request from the uber-awesome xxxAthaelaxxx for 'Derek and Stiles have been fuck buddies for months, then Derek knots Stiles'.
> 
> Title comes from Beyonce's very-excellent-indeed 'XO'.

It's going on for longer than Derek planned, if you _can_ plan something like this.  


The tension between them has palpable for months, maybe a year or longer, and it had just gone past the point of just smelling Stiles' arousal, like a sweat-slick haze of cinnamon and sweetness every time he walked into the room, when Stiles turned around in the loft one quiet afternoon and said, very matter-of-factly, "I think we should fuck."  


"Excuse me?"  


"Dude, come on, we both know we want it, I'm sure as hell not getting any, since Ms Blake went all "grr, Darach!!, I don't think you have, so - "  


Derek had paused, bottle of water tight in his grasp, and had just - stopped. Thinking. Like, _at all_.  


"If we do," Derek managed a few moments later, voice gruff, "then we agree; this is just sex, alright? Nothing emotional, just physical."  


Stiles grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his smile a mile wide and a little dirty. "Awesome. You ready to go, big guy?"  


They had kissed frantically in the kitchen to begin with, exchanging furitve handjobs that had them sighing and moaning into the creases of each other's mouths, Derek smelling the pulse of hot, sweet scent that came from Stiles, sharper and sweeter with every stroke of his hand.  


Derek had blown Stiles in the back of his Jeep after school, steaming up the windows, and Stiles had sloppily but enthusiastically returned the favour two days later during a stakeout for a group of demons stalking the forest. His technique, Derek admitted, was pretty bad but with enough joyous abandon, Stiles had come streaking his lips and his cheeks before long, the sight almost making him hard again had it not been for said demons bursting in on the afterglow.  


It's fun and the ultimate kind of release - sure he could just jerk off in the shower, or find another girl like Jennifer or Julia or whatever her real name had been in the end, but he trusts Stiles in a way that he does only a select few people. It's nice knowing he can let himself truly go and be in the moment.  


Derek takes Stiles' 'ass-gynity' (as Stiles so, oh-so-charmingly refers to it as before, during _and_ afterwards) on a quiet Friday night during lacrosse off-season, when Stiles has no games, his father is working a long shift, and Cora is off out at the movies.  


He doesn't do candles or soft music or anything like that - Stiles doesn't seem the guy to be into that kind of romanticism, particularly given the frankly _obscene_ amount of sex they've been having _everywhere_ \- but he has clean sheets and spends a fair amount of time opening Stiles up and making him come before Derek begins to fuck him.  


"Jesus, Derek - I, oh, _fuck_ \- that is, _wow_ , Christ - " Stiles' face is level amounts pain, pleasure and scientific curiousity, and Derek bends down to kiss some of the pain away, settling into the juncture of Stiles' soft thighs so that he can fuck him right in the perfect spot to make Stiles' eyes roll into the back of his head and gasp.

They don't last long. Stiles comes, untouched, within a minute or two, overloaded sensitive nerves jettisoning control and sending fireworks behind Stiles' eyes and come across his lower belly. Derek isn't much better. He loses it a second later after the smell of Stiles' come hits his nose and he _fucks_ , sharper, harder, before pulsing come, fucking it into Stiles.

And this ends up being a repeat thing. Turns out Stiles _likes_ getting fucked in the ass. That first night, Stiles turns over onto his belly an hour later, in the middle of a _Cupcake Wars_ marathon and pushing his hips up and Derek just descends, his mouth slick and hot against Stiles' entrance, feasting, and then his cock is there instead and Derek just fucks him, rutting like the wild animal he is, all raw and aching.  


And the sex _really_ works for Derek. He sleeps better, he's less grumpy, he enjoys waking up next to someone warm and pliable and who smells _good_. His life improves over the next few months, however marginally.  


So, Derek really, _really_ can't explain it one night when Stiles' face turns from pleasantly fucked, come coating his torso, to an expression of horror and pain and sheer confusion and Derek is worried for half a second until he feels it, a tight swelling underneath his dick, the base expanding outwards and - he's -   


Well, _shit_.  


He's _knotting_ Stiles.  


"What the fuck is that, Derek?"  


"I - it's my - just calm down, Stiles, _please_ \- " Derek runs his hands down Stiles' sides, down his belly, trying anything and everything to calm him down because Stiles is freaking out and his heart is racing and -   
Derek kisses Stiles' brow, his temples, curls his arms around Stiles like a cocoon until he calms down. "Stiles. Relax. It's just - I don't know why but I'm - I'm knotting, alright?" It feels terrible to say, an admission pushed out of him.  


"You're knotting? _Seriously_? Why now?"  


"I don't know. _Seriously_."  


"I thought you wolfies only ever knotted with your ma - " Stiles stops dead, just as the realisation hits Derek. He's mating with Stiles, or rather he is mates with Stiles, and it just - _oh_.  


_Oh._   


And if that first realisation was like a thunderbolt, the next one is like a train, slamming into him and connecting everything, again and again and again, but _oh God_ \- of course he's knotting Stiles. _Of course_.  
Because deep down, Derek has always known it's been something more - the day-long TV marathons and Stiles' terrible attempts at baking and Derek's slightly better ones at cooking dinner and seeing the lacrosse games and giving him rides home and kissing him in the morning and his life hasn't just improved marginally, it's _wonderful_ , it's the best it's been in years and -  


"I don't think this has been 'just sex' for a long time, Stiles." Derek forces himself to look down at Stiles, like a beacon and a burden at the same time because he's terrified that Stiles will reject him, will push him away (emotionally, if not perhaps physically), will stop being the most important person in Stiles' life; and yet he can't not look away because he wants more than anything for Stiles to _get it_ , to get what he's saying and - and -  


"You too, huh?" Stiles' smile is wry and hopeful, and _oh thank you God_ because someone has finally given Derek a fucking break. Hell they've given him the sun and the stars, because Stiles said _you too_ , which means he -   


"Ever since I first kissed you, dude." Stiles is grinning now and Derek likes to think the tear in Stiles' eye is pure emotion and not pain, as Derek bends to kiss it away. _He loves him_. They love each other, even though they might not say it, it's coming into focus and shining and bright and _theirs_.  


And it's definitely not the most romantic time for it, not when Stiles is currently dealing with what probably feels like a fleshy tennis ball up his ass, but Derek cups his face and smiles and tells him, "I love you, Stiles."  


And, because God is clearly having a two-for-one sale on giving Derek Hale a fucking break, Stiles says it right back.

**Author's Note:**

> I would apologise for the mind-rotting, tooth-aching fluff, but I've never been able to write just sex. Sorry xxxAthaelaxxx if you wanted more smut and less heartmelting stuff but I was listening to Beyonce and the Gravity soundtrack when writing this AND THE FEELS.


End file.
